


Linquere, Caesar

by oloros



Category: Fallout (Video Games), Fallout: New Vegas
Genre: Benny's escape from the Fort, Caesar's Legion, Gen, NCR | New California Republic, The Courier having mercy, it's despicable I know
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-16
Updated: 2021-01-16
Packaged: 2021-03-14 03:48:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,223
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28788984
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/oloros/pseuds/oloros
Summary: Escaping was a gamble and, well… Bennyalwayshad Lady Luck on his side.
Comments: 3
Kudos: 10





	Linquere, Caesar

“Okay. I’ll help you,” they said, lips upturned so faintly even the dog-head would fail to catch it. “But you gotta agree to one thing.”

Benny returned with a smile of his own and craned his body as forward as the ropes would allow. “Anything for you, baby.”

Their smile dropped. They looked so powerful and commanding hovering over him, like he’d righted himself and glanced into a mirror. “You’ll listen,” they said.

Benny raised one eyebrow. “That’s it?”

“Yep.” They checked over their shoulder, back to Baldie and his dog-head crony. The Courier’s knack for gaining trust was always a sight to behold; hell, that’s how _he_ got into this situation. As they bent down he felt a bobby pin slip between his fingers, and the heavy weight of a stealth boy slipped beneath the folds of his jacket. “You’re only getting one shot at this,” they said. “Make it count.”

They pulled away and offered a salute. He didn’t bother listening to their chat with Baldie. He’d speak for hours and hours without ever saying a thing, with a rough voice that droned. Never added glamour to it, no _shine_. He’d be hard pressed to find something less interesting barring the wooden door between his suite and his workshop.

Dog-head didn’t watch him like he had before. Whatever the Courier’s silver-tongued had dribbled into his ear had worked; his normally vacant stare seemed more concerned with the closed fabric of Baldie’s room than his charge, as if it held something that weighed on his life. He didn’t leave until the early hours of the morning, where the moon still dripped light through holes and the Mojave’s wildlife began to stir.

Escaping was a gamble and, well… Benny _always_ had Lady Luck on his side.

He darted through the tent with one of the last of the scumbags to exit. That turned out to be the easiest part. He had moments before his absence was noticed and an alert was raised, and there were plenty more men in skirts to weave through before the ordeal was done. But the Courier’s words hung heavy in his head and urged him forwards. Slaves passed him in droves. Even at night they were strapped with supplies, curving their backs at unnatural angles to accommodate the weight.

The front gate would open in intervals of an hour, usually to let more dog-heads through. By the time Benny was through, his stealth boy was on the rocks. He gave it ten minutes at best, five at worst. Creeping down the hill and squatting at the base, his attention was drawn to a dry moat that ran between two of the fences. They were shoddily made, too hazardous to climb. But that left a hope.

To travel through the moat provided extra security but a limited view of the skirts above. The fences guided him as did the wooden planks littering his path. His toes met the dirt only, avoiding the wood like a plague. When the moat came to a close he scaled the hill with calloused hands. They thumped with a pain he would never meet in a casino.

As he expected, the fences placement was as guessworked as their construction. There was a gap where the two ends met, one big enough for him to squeeze through if he went sideways. He glanced over his shoulder, back to the bustle of the fort, and bid them to kiss his ass as he snaked through the crack to the other side.

Hoover Dam greeted him from a distance. The sun was peeking over the horizon. Rays of light washed over his translucent face, the stealth boy’s cloaking muffling the warmth. The Legion were like sharks in open water, circling the NCR. If the Dam were their boat, the Legion would be butting against the belly, threatening to topple it.

But they were safe. For now.

His legs had never ached so badly and his hands burned from where the rope had once been. His thoughts drifted back to the Courier, the one who had handed him his ticket free despite him taking theirs so many months ago. Hell, if his Chairmen showed that kind of forgiveness, their casino would be bankrupt!

The hardest hurdle in the journey was the swimming. It was known that NCR rangers patrolled parts of the dam, and he’d do well to get their attention. But the stealth boy still had a good minute left on its timer by the time he was waterbound and his arms were _pulsing._ When one of the bastards _did_ notice him, wearing a filthy brown coat and an eerie mask, it took them another ten to get a rope long enough to hoist him to the Dam’s surface. By the time he was free he felt his legs would give in, and he made no attempt to refute that. The ranger had to carry him into their offices.

They were hospitable. The NCR always were if you looked sorry enough. They wrapped him in a warm blanket and sat him on one of the benches on the first floor. The room was mostly empty aside from stairs, an elevator and the front desk. It was large, wooden circle in the center that stuck out like a sore thumb. Benny’s eyes kept to the floor, ignoring sympathetic looks. Ignoring unspoken questions, for they knew who he was.

The original ranger, the one who’d actually been paying attention, returned to him a half hour later with some dry bread and water. He wasn’t hungry, but the purified water was a nice change to dog-head’s icy stare.

“You seem embarrassed,” they said, sitting beside him with their hands neatly placed on their crossed legs. The mask muffled their voice, but it had a clear feminine touch. “Don’t be. You’re not the first one to escape.”

Benny shook his head and half-smiled. “Nothing more embarrassing than being tossed about by some pussy cats pretending to be lions.”

“Lions?” She tilted her head, but the word was brushed away. “They may look ridiculous, but they’re ruthless. You’re lucky we got you out of the water in time, and God knows how you managed to...” She tapped the side of her mask with her index finger. After five consecutive beats, she cleared her throat. “Anyways, if I were you, I’d move. They don’t want to admit it, but the Mojave’s going to shit. We’re rescuing more slaves than we’re recruiting men. We’re running ourselves into the ground.”

Benny snorted. “Vegas is as safe as a bundle of kittens, doll. All I need to do is go back there.”

She stilled at that. “Maybe. But between you and me, House is only one man, if even that.”

“One man with a fuckton of robots,” Benny said.

“Look. All I’m saying is: not many people escape the Legion like you did. As far as anyone in Vegas knows, you’re dead.” She sighed heavily and rested a tattered glove the shoulder of his daisy suit. “Not a lot of people get a fresh start like that.”

Benny parted his lips but his words halted. The ranger gave him one final pat before leaving the offices.

A fresh start… he looked down to the bobby pin clipped to his sleeve.

He liked the sound of that.

**Author's Note:**

> Got requested to write something for Benny on Tumblr!  
> I go by ghoulja there if you are interested in seeing more from me.


End file.
